The Winter Love (27 page)

Henry shifted the sword in his hand slightly until it was in the right place and then it became an extension of himself.
His strategy made and his weaknesses accounted for, he attacked first, knowing he would not be able to fight for long.

Stephen parried competently and Henry’s spirits lifted. His opponent might know how to handle a sword, but he handled it as if
he were unused to it. Wary of the other three men, Henry could not give his full attention to his opponent, but he knew that he had to finish this fight quickly. He risked a glance at Eleanor and she looked up at him confidently. If he could not justify that confidence she would die.

Eleanor thought that Henry limped slightly as he circled Stephen, looking for an opening. One of the three watching men took a step forward, but Edwin put out an arm to stop him and shook his head.

“I can tak
e you on as well, if you wish,” shouted Henry, but Eleanor could tell that it was a lie. Already he was breathing heavily and his voice was not as strong as it should be. Unable to think of any other way to support him, Eleanor began to pray.

Henry began to drag his left leg slightly and only just managed to jump back in time when
Stephen lunged towards him. He seemed to be finding it difficult to hold his sword, as if it were too heavy for him. Eleanor watched as Stephen began to smile, seeing that his opponent was not strong enough to continue for long. She could not see Henry’s face and knew that when she saw it next he would be dead. She gasped in dismay as Henry stumbled towards Stephen and it looked as if he would fall on Stephen’s sword. Stephen stepped forward drawing his arm back for the final blow and Henry’s left arm flew out. Eleanor had not seen how he did it, but his sword was now in his left hand.

“No!” screamed Stephen, but it was too late and Henry’
s sword found its target. Stephen clutched at it, but Henry drew it out as Stephen fell backwards. Once he lay on the ground Henry plunged the sword through his enemy’s neck and Stephen lay still. Eleanor knew that it had been a mercy stroke, but it was hard to watch.

Henry straightened and pulled his sword
from Stephen’s body.

“Anything to say?” Henry spoke to the three men.

Edwin stepped forward.

“We are grateful to you. We can manage now. I was Philip de Vray’s steward. I’m sorry that I have not been able to help Sister Margaret before now, but Sir Stephen made it clear that our families would be killed if we resisted him.”

“So you waited for someone else to come and do your dirty work for you.” Henry spat on the ground. “The only reason you live is because you gave Eleanor a dagger, but you had better hope that we never meet again.”

Edwin bowed and led the other two men back into the house. Henry crossed the courtyard to where Eleanor lay.

“You tricked him,” she said.

“I let him think he could win, yes. But the deception was not so great. I am very tired, Eleanor, and my wounds pain me more than I can say. If we had fought much longer, I would have been the one lying dead in the mud.”

He bent down and picked her up. In the darkening afternoon light she saw that his jaw was clenched against the pain and his face was pale and drawn. She kissed his cheek and nestled against his chest. “Thank you,” she said.

Eleanor remembered little of the short journey, which she thought must be a mercy. Her whole body protested every movement. Henry pushed Solomon on, desperate to get help for Eleanor in the convent before nightfall and Eleanor drifted in and out of consciousness.
Each time she came round she touched Henry’s face to reassure herself that it had not been a dream that he was still alive. It was snowing and the snow stuck to his beard, making her hands colder each time she touched him. Eventually they arrived at the convent and the nuns tended her injuries and she was put to bed, where she fell into a fitful sleep, worried that Henry would leave before she woke.

When she did wake the first thing she saw was Henry sitting on a stool beside her bed.

“Hello,” he said when he saw her eyes open. She didn’t think he had slept and his face beneath his beard was very pale. He was as thin as he had been when they first met. She longed to look after him, to tend his wounds and watch over him while he slept, but she could not.

“You’re still here.”

Henry blushed, “I’m afraid I gave the sisters to believe that I would harm them before I left your side.”

“I would have slept better had I known. There is much I want to say to you.”

“Then go back to sleep
, little one. I shall go to an inn now that I know you will be well, but I shall not leave before we have talked.”

Eleanor had to be content with the promise and she fell asleep again.

Henry was not permitted to enter the convent again, but Eleanor was
allowed to go into the town to say goodbye to him. She was still weak and her legs were unsteady, but Sister Mary, who went with her, allowed Eleanor to lean on her as they walked. There had been a hard frost during the night and Eleanor was glad of her help as they walked along the frozen road.

Eleanor had not
yet told the Mother Abbess what had happened since she had left the convent, but she assumed that Henry had told her some of it, for Mother Abbess had told her that Stephen’s death meant that the estates passed to another cousin, a boy born after Eleanor had gone into the convent. She found she didn’t care. Wealth didn’t matter to her and what she had had been left with Henry.

They found Henry sitting by the fire in the inn.
He smiled and stood as they entered. He crossed the room and took Eleanor’s arm to help her. He was clean-shaven once more. Although he smiled, Eleanor could see that he was troubled and she wished to help him, but did not know how.

Henry settled her comfortably on
the bench closest to the fire and wrapped a blanket around her legs so that she would warm more quickly. She smiled her thanks as he sat beside her.

“Please could you leave us alone, Sister?” asked Eleanor.

“Mother Abbess said I am to stay with you.” Sister Mary was known for her lack of imagination and her blind obedience to Mother Abbess.

“
Then stay with her by sitting over there.” Henry pointed to a bench on the far side of the room.

“Mother Abbess said...”

“Must I pick you up and take you?”

“Mother Abbess said...”

Henry stood and took a step towards her. The nun fled quickly to the other side of the room, where she sat and glared at Henry.

Henry sat again and looked into Eleanor’s face. “You are still not well. You should not have come.”

“Mother Abbess believes that your presence in the neighbourhood is a bad influence on me and on the convent. She would like you to be reassured that I am well so that you will leave.” Eleanor spoke carefully, so that Henry would not guess how sick her soul had been. Her body was healing quickly, but her soul had been broken and was slow to mend. Knowing that Henry was near both helped and hindered.

Henry snorted. “I thought she had more sense.”

“In a way she is right.”

Henry frowned and Eleanor reached out and held his hand.
It was warm in hers and she almost let go immediately, but this would be the last time she could touch him and he did not pull away. She sighed. Once she would have found pleasure in his touch, now there was only sorrow and despair.

“You have
saved my life twice and saved my virtue. I have behaved foolishly and you have kept to the straight and narrow path.”

“Eleanor....”

“Please, let me finish. My foolishness almost led to your death and it led to the death of others. I thought once that I could live outside the convent, but I have brought disaster on those who have been kindest to me.” Eleanor had finally found the peace that she had sought for so long lying in her small bed in her cell in the convent. Much as she longed to be with Henry, she recognised that she had spent too long in the convent, to be able to live anywhere else. When she came to discuss the last weeks with Mother Abbess she thought she would now be able to do so calmly; she had control of herself once more even if her self was greatly diminished.

“You will take your vows and stay in the convent, then?”
Eleanor thought he looked disappointed, but it was difficult to read his face. He, too, seemed to have learned self-control again.

Eleanor nodded. “I will talk to Mother Abbess and she might not wish me to stay, but if she will have me, I will stay.”

“Then perhaps I should stay until you are sure, or until she decides.” Henry was unexpectedly keen to stay.

“I cannot keep you from your property any longer.”

“Each day I rest is a day I get better, too.”

“The journey here might have killed you.”
She had thought a great deal about this, too. The light in the inn was not good, but she could see that he was tired and still far too thin. He had come after her out of a sense of duty, but she had almost cost him his life again. He had rescued her from the convent and that act of kindness had caused him nothing but trouble.

“Yes.
But, Eleanor, I let my guard down and they took you. It would only have been just if I had died.”

“No!” Eleanor jumped to her feet. “My life is not worth yours.”

Henry smiled. “It is to me.”

Eleanor felt her resolution
to take her vows waver. Despite her new self-control she smiled back. He stood and took her hands in his. He trembled slightly and she felt a sudden excitement. He loved her; surely he loved her and was going to ask her to return to Hampshire with him. And she would go when he asked, despite her previous certainty that she should stay.

Henry took a breath and she saw hesitation in his face.

“I gave my word to your brother that I would protect you if anything happened to him and I failed.”

Eleanor felt all the light and warmth leave her. Henry didn’t care for her, except as Philip’s sister.

“I must go back,” she managed to say. “May God go with you.”

Henry opened his mouth, but said nothing. Eleanor turned her bac
k on him and signalled Sister Mary to come and help her. Still Henry said nothing and his terrible silence was all that Eleanor carried with her as she went back to the convent.

Henry had decided that he would go back to the convent in April, after the New Year celebrations. The fear that Eleanor might have been cast out of the convent accompanied him night and day. She might not be able to stay with him, but he should be able to do something to help her. The aftermath of the attack on his house had kept them all busy and the arrival of spring meant that there was even more for them to do, but now things were easier and he could take the time to go to the convent to visit her.

A week ago h
e had sent a messenger to Devon to take word to the woman who had fed them on their way to the coast. Her man was alive and unhurt and would be staying in France for a while. Henry had arranged for messages to be carried between them via a port in Devon. His own messenger was to go on to the convent for news of Eleanor. Since he had sent the messenger Henry had changed his mind about going to Devon himself. He had thought that news of Eleanor would be enough, but now he thought that might not be so and wanted to see her himself.

Henry had expected to be able to lose himself in his property when he had returned from Devon
in January, but he felt that Eleanor was his responsibility and he should not have left without knowing that she would be allowed to stay in the convent. For the last month he had expected a messenger from her to arrive asking him to go back and accompany her somewhere or to say that Mother Abbess had allowed her stay, but nothing had come. He did not feel that he and Eleanor had parted well, but, despite many attempts to do so, he had not been allowed to see her again. Finally, admitting defeat, he had come home and had been restless ever since. Despite having no more reason to believe that Mother Abbess would allow him to see Eleanor than he had had in January, he knew he had to try again. If it was Eleanor who did not wish to see him, he hoped that the passage of time might have changed her mind.

He was about to go and eat
with the priest in the village when he saw Peter, the new stable boy, cross the yard. He had not seen the boy before, but knew that this must be him. “He knows everything about horses,” his steward had enthused when he had taken him on. “Even Solomon does as he’s told.” Henry had smiled, feeling slightly sad that Solomon had found someone else to replace Eleanor in his affections. He wanted to go on feeling that Solomon thought that Eleanor was as special as he did.

The boy was struggling with a large bucket full of something
heavy as he crossed the yard. Smiling, Henry pulled his cloak around him and stepped outside to follow the boy.

He caught him up
just after the boy had gone into the stable. Peter was stroking and kissing Solomon’s face and feeding him a shrivelled apple from the bucket. Henry watched appreciatively in silence for a while, finally allowing himself to enjoy the way the boy’s body moved, but hesitating still to make the first move. Then the boy seemed to realise that he was being watched and turned. Henry did not have to struggle to keep his face serious as he spoke.

“You have saved me a long journey at least.”

“Have I?” Eleanor at least had the grace to look embarrassed. Henry took a step towards her, despite himself.

“I intended to leave next week to see
whether you had been cast out of the convent. I did not think Mother Abbess would throw you out before spring.” He kept his voice light so that she would not know how angry he was about this. Eleanor had always shown great respect for Mother Abbess and he had not expected her to behave so badly.

“I left. No matter how
much I wanted to believe I had a vocation, I knew at last that it was Philip’s will for me to be in the convent, not God’s.”

Henry took a breath of relief, then realised that he should be
angry at Eleanor’s stupidity in travelling alone, rather than send for him.  “I told Mother Abbess everything,” she continued. “Everything.”

Henry blushed.

“She thought I would be better off out of the convent. She wanted to send for you, but I...I could not.”

In some way he had let Eleanor down
, not just because he had forced himself on her. He felt it, but could not say how. And now, because she knew she could not rely on him, she had found her own way back to his house. She had not accepted his apology for his failure to protect her, so of course she had not sent for him.

“You weren’t sure I’d come,” Henry
guessed. “How did you get here?”

“
It was not that I thought you would not come.” Eleanor ignored his question and turned back to rub Solomon’s face. “I knew you would. It was what you would do next that worried me. So, I walked here. I stopped occasionally to work. No one bothered a poor boy who was good with horses. How long have you known I was here?” She turned back to face him and for a moment Henry couldn’t answer. Eleanor had put her life in danger because she hadn’t felt able to ask for his help.

“H
enry? Henry, are you alright?”

“What?”
He hadn’t realised that he hadn't answered her question and now couldn't remember it. Shame and anger warred within him. Then he remembered. “I saw you cross the courtyard just now.” He took a breath to control himself. Eleanor took a step towards him, her concern obvious on her face. Now he allowed himself to think about what she had said. She had left the convent to come here, to him. Perhaps he was not wrong to hope. “How long did you think you could be here without me knowing?” Finally he let his exasperation show.

“Longer
than this. I look like a boy. I have strong arms and legs like a boy.” She sounded almost pleading, as if she were trying to convince him. Henry wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to convince his steward. She had always been more muscular than a woman should be, thanks to her work with the horses in the convent, but all his senses acknowledged that she was a woman. Why had none of his servants been able to see it?

“Oh, Eleanor, didn’t you think I would know you the moment I saw you?”

Eleanor said nothing, but turned and buried her face against Solomon’s shoulder. Henry waited a moment, confused. Had Eleanor really hoped to stay hidden here? Was there some other reason why she had come?

“
You can’t stay here.”

“Please don’t send me away.” Eleanor turned back to him, her eyes wet with tears.

“I meant in the stable. You can’t stay in the stable... unless you came here to be with Solomon.” Henry frowned as he thought about this possibility. Could Eleanor have come all this way for Solomon and not for him? He dismissed the thought as the stupidity it was and acknowledged that he was not thinking properly.

“I came to be your servant.” Eleanor said, seemingly unaware of the turmoil that raged within him. “You made it clear that you didn’t want me here, but I thought that if I was your servant I could stay with you and you wouldn’t even have to see me.” Henry opened his mouth, then stopped. How had he made Eleanor believe that he didn’t want her here? He groaned as he remembered all the times he had told her that she couldn’t stay with him, that she must return to the convent. He had never once said that he wanted her to stay, only in his head, only in his dreams. Sobered by the understanding that his next words would be important, he thought carefully. He had thrown away his chance in Devonshire, but Eleanor had come to him now and he must not frighten her again.

“When I knew that you doubted your vocation I should have begged you to come back with me, but I couldn’t, not while I thought there was a chance that it
really was your vocation.” Henry paused, remembering once more the devastation he had felt when his own vocation had been denied him. “You know that I was to have been a monk?” Eleanor nodded. “Something...something happened. I cannot tell you what; I made a promise to the other person involved, but it was assumed that I was the one responsible.”